Your Majesty

In December, I had an opportunity to visit the Victoria Falls. What I had known of it was stuck in history books and hearsay. I knew it as “a big waterfall”, an immense natural wonder. Little did I know that it was so much more than that. That nature cared for no man. That it ran wild and free and beautifully and that it wouldn’t stop. That the visitors wouldn’t stop.

vic

If there was any sort of sign in the Universe to let us know that God or a higher being was around us, then I think the quiet of nature, the loudness of nature, the simplicity of nature and it being complicated at the same time is that sign. There’s more to us than what we know.

And it’s in those moments where we can just look on and feel grateful that we are witnessing, that we can be inspired.

Your Majesty

 

Gliding fingers on the face of steel strings

And Livingstone’s son roars

masquerading as heaven’s pool

but the devil and ghosts and angels appear

swallowing the smoke

hearing it enter your heart

so it can never leave

drowning so words can’t cry

humans mould themselves into a great self

unaware that the thunder hits us all

we make up reasons that this is the only life we have

until the smoke whirls, falls, whirls, falls

no chance of a trapped corner

Vicky with her ten-minute smoke break

where the world is forgotten

Your Majesty, it roars

without an interlude

it growls at the human who thinks

that all of this doesn’t matter

As Africa bleeds hope

 the skies place a cloth over the torn table

The smoke that thunders

falling and yelling

Can you hear me, Can you hear me

Your Majesty, it roars

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